Church on Sunday
by wally4ever
Summary: OneShot: Ginny wallows to herself, Hermione, and Fleur about Harry, Harry leans to Ron. They carry on with their lives for a year without seeing each other. But that isn't the end, second chances live on.


Church on Sunday

By wally4ever

A One-Shot

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Ginny wouldn't dare admit to any but Hermione how much she missed Harry. Also Fleur, it was nice having another girl around other than her mother. But no one else. She won't tell the others how much he hurt her, or made her cry, or made her ache for him every night and waking moment. The embarrassment would be too much, and then it would do nothing more but created a deeper depression for her.

No, every morning she would wake up at an ungodly time, and lay on her bed. Rotting both mentally and in her heart. The only movement she would get in a day was when Fleur would come to her with a shoulder to cry on, or when she went for Pig to owl Hermione. She had heard heartbreak was a horrid thing to be in, but she never really thought it would happen to her so soon. She didn't think she would ever be with Harry Potter, either. She wasn't worth the trouble.

Then she would cry, cry, and cry some more. But she would have to suck it in and clean her self up to look presentable for breakfast which she had just started attending again.

Unfortunately, Fleur and Bill got married, and they weren't staying at The Burrow anymore. She had eavesdropped on Hermione and Ron talking to Harry, just to hear his voice once more, and discovered that they were planning on going on their Horcrux hunt in three days. She fled to her room, and said goodbye to every one of them but Harry. She hoped that wasn't the wrong decision.

Her sixth was rather uneventful without The Boy Who Lived to cause havoc and mystery. She supposed this must have been the way previous generations handled there years attending Hogwarts, just learning and going to Hogsmeade. It was boring and simple, but boring and simple was what she needed right then. But every night, her dreams were haunted with the days Harry, Ron, and Hermione were there. She'd wake up to her dorm mates shaking her, and found herself wet from sweat and tears.

Every week, her mother gave her an owl on the 'news' of the Trio. Usually it was nothing, but there was one in which her mother said that a Horcrux was caught and destroyed. Ginny grinned and thought how Harry must have felt so triumphed to have gotten one. But she couldn't think like that. It was too hard and difficult for her to move on. Though, in the back of her mind, she knew she may never move on from The Boy Who Lived. Sometimes when she thought of Harry, she'd place The Boy Who lived where Harry should be.

Sixth year ended, and Ginny walked with her trunk towards the red Hogwarts Express. She had boarded with a group of excited first years, eager to see their parents. Ginny sat in the corner like the living dead. Wallowing into the compartment air. Sinking into her seat, trying to keep her mind off The Boy Who Lived. It was just too hard to think of him.

Ginny stepped off the train, trunk in tow, and was met with the open arms of her parents and her twin brothers. Fred handed Ginny a new invention they made, and George told her it was all hers. Ginny stared at it and felt light headed. She looked up at them and muttered a thank you. She missed the worried and scared glances the four red heads gave each other, and they walked out of the platform.

When Ginny returned home, she went straight into her room, and didn't come out until supper time. After, she went to her room once more, and slept.

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Between traveling and hunting and destroying Horcruxes, Harry was a tired and beat guy. Hermione said he needed to eat something, or else he might collapse while searching endlessly for a Horcrux. He didn't tell her the real reason why he was so tired, but he did tell Ron. Instead of wanting to kill him, Ron felt sympathy, and told him that Ginny was probably just as depressed as he was. Though, what Harry feared most was that he would die, and he never had a chance to say goodbye to her.

After a year of searching to near death, the Horcruxes were found, and diminished. The three stayed at a motel that night, and slept until past noon the next day. They then went out to eat at a diner, and stuffed themselves until they hand to unbutton their pants. While walking around to get fresh air, they all got identical stares of fear from passerbies. It wasn't unexpected. They looked like they came out of a Muggle horror movie.

The battle with Voldemort happened before they had a chance to blink. Harry had recovered from his physical pains and aches, and was well enough to fight him. Though, thoughts of Ginny still lingered helplessly in his mind.

Voldemort had Harry in the Cruciatus Curse for nearly five minutes before he broke concentration. After seconds of Voldemort's mocks of him not being able to compete with a great wizard like he, Harry pointed his wand weakly at Voldemort, and tears began to fall from his eyes. Harry wasn't sure the reason for his tears, but presumed it was for the Wizarding world and Ginny. With a scream, Harry charge at Voldemort, and plowed him to the ground. Voldemort was shaken beneath Harry's body, Harry began to pierce the wizard's face with his wand. Voldemort cried out in pain, and Harry head butted him.

Voldemort was a bloody mess. Harry had knocked out some of his teeth with the head assault, and Voldemort was paralyzed in fear and pain. Harry stood up tall and strong, pointed his wand at Voldmort's face, and delivered the killing curse before the evil master mind came to his senses.

He touched his scar that was burning like a pit of lava before, and felt the searing pains go away. He never felt from it again. Harry walked away to inform Ron and Hermione, but just meters from them, he collapsed in a tired, fatigued heap.

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It was the middle of summer, and Ginny woke up felting empty and cold. Normally, she would have felt concerned about herself, but it was nothing but routine. She stepped out of her bed, and walked out her room to go to the bathroom. She used the toilet, and brushed her teeth. She stared at her reflection.

It was the first time in so long she had gazed into the picture of herself reflected from the glass. Her eyes were blood shot, her hair was in a mess, and she really did look dead, empty, and cold. She moved her arm to retrieve the comb, and didn't register really doing that. It took sometime to get all the knots out, but soon enough her hair was slick and straight just like it usually is.

She reached a hand up and touched her eye lids. They felt big. She opened her eyes, and saw how hollow they looked. The brown had tinted into a depressing sight, and she had a headache from crying so much.

She walked out of the bathroom to go to her room again. She fell into her bed, and laid there. She missed him. She missed him so much. The alias The Boy Who Lived made her break down in tears, so he was merely a pronoun. She hugged her pillow, and felt hot tears run down her cheeks. She wiped them roughly away, and got up. She went out her room once more, but this time went down the stairs to go to the kitchen.

She smelt breakfast already in the making, but stopped dead in her tracks. There were voices talking down there. They weren't her mother or her father's. Since they were the only ones occupying The Burrow now, Ginny was immediately suspicious. But then, she heard them as three voices. Three voices she knew all too much. One she knew all her life, one she knew as the smartest witch of her age, and the other was . . . him.

Ginny sat on the steps, and listened. He didn't speak much; it was mostly Ron and Hermione. Apparently, Voldemort was dead, and he was okay. Ron and Hermione were congratulating him, and he was being humble and saying it wasn't all him. Ginny smiled, she loved that about him. He was so humble and kind. But then she remembered how much he hurt her and felt her eyes water.

But then, she heard her name. She perked up, and got a big ear. They missed her! Someone cared! But he didn't say anything. He was as quiet as a church mouse. Ginny felt a tear slide down at cheek. Footsteps sounded, and Ginny started to think they were getting up to check up on breakfast, so she continued to sit there, on the steps, in mourn.

Then the steps stopped, but she didn't look at them, wherever they were. Then, someone said her name. Ginny slowly picked up her head to look for the sound. It was Ron. Beside him were Hermione and . . . him. Ginny felt her breath hitch in her throat. He didn't look at her, but at his shoes. Ron and Hermione nodded their heads at each other, and walked away, leaving Ginny and him together, alone.

Ginny couldn't take the hurt, so she stood up, and turned to go back upstairs and to her room. She heard him move, though, and stopped. She didn't look back at him. She heard his steps trail higher up the stairs, until they stopped shortly towards her, and she could distinctively hear him breathing softly. Ginny gulped and tightened her grip on the hand rail. She titled her head slightly towards him, but nothing more. In fact, it wasn't even a centimeter.

He whispered her name, and she felt in behind her neck. She sniffed, and began to tremble. He whispered it again, this time louder, and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. His hand felt timid and scared against the skin on her shoulder. Ginny didn't stop the tears from falling. He croaked out her name, and spun her around.

Ginny first saw the aging in his eyes, and then the long cut on his forehead, bandaged up, but blood showing. His other hand was helplessly at his side, up in other bandages. He said her name once more, but it was more of a cry for help. Ginny fell into his arms, and cried. Harry gripped her into a deathly tight hold, and stroked her hair and tears fell out of his own eyes.

He whispered to her on how much he missed her, how much he thought of her day in and day out, how he thought of her as he fought Voldemort and hunting for Horcruxes, but most of all, he told her how much he missed her and loved her. How he never wanted to leave her again, and how he want to marry her, have babies with her. He thought he may have said too much, but was met with Ginny's lips pressed up against his own.

He deepened the kiss, and placed his hands around her neck, and hers felt to his waist. They broke apart, and gazed at each other, all battered and beaten. Then they laughed joyfully, forgetting about the year they spent without seeing each other, sending an owl, or talking. They held onto each other and thought that second chances weren't just a fairy tale sort of thing, but can happen to people in real life. And never forgot that.

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AN: Based on the Green Day's song Church on Sunday. I was going to make it a song fic, but a) song fics are banned, and b) I figured it would be better just to mention it was based on the song.


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